There has been so much loss this year that I thought to introduce you to the “Bangou Requiem,” a poem written by the Cameroonian poet and author Etienne Noumé. Bangou (pronounce Ban-gu in English) is a town in the Western province of Cameroon, and is part of the Bamiléké grassfields. Noumé’s description of his loss is so profound, and uses typical Bamileke imagery, “My body is numb… the palms have dried under the moonlight“, “My sun went down“, my joy, my everything, “… blown away by the wind.” It is hard to lose someone dear, especially one’s child. In Bamileke culture, the parent is supposed to bury his child and not the contrary, so you can imagine the heart wrenching pain… that numbs you. “The palms have dried under the moonlight“… think about it for a minute: … can a palm dry under the moonlight?… this is Bamileke imagery for you. “My reddened pot burst” my hope blown away in an instant, without any notice, the impossible has happened. This here is a Bangou Requiem, “Chant Funebre Bangou” by Etienne Noumé, first published in Angoisse quotidienne, Le Flambeau, Yaoundé, re-published in Anthologie Africaine: Poésie Vol2, Jacques Chevrier, Collection Monde Noir Poche, 1988, and translated to English by Dr. Y. Afrolegends.com . Enjoy!
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| Chant funèbre Bangou
Mon corps est engourdi et je me meurs de froid; mon enfant est allé couper du bois, hélas et n’est pas revenu Les palmes ont séché à la lueur de la lune Sur le foyer ardent mon pot rougi éclate : à l’aube au marigot mon enfant est allé et n’est pas revenu. Les palmes ont séché, à la lueur de la lune Mon soleil s’est couché : mon enfant est allé derrière la colline emporté par le vent et n’en reviendra jamais plus Les palmes ont séché, à la lueur de la lune |
Bangou Requiem
My body is numb and I am dying of cold; my child went to cut wood, alas and did not come back the palms have dried under the moonlight On the fiery hearth my reddened pot burst : at dawn in the backwater my child went and did not come back. The palms have dried under the moonlight My sun went down : my child went behind the hill blown away by the wind and will never come back the palms have dried under the moonlight |
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